The Hip Flask
by Angelustatt
Summary: A short tale of how a gift can mean so much to a person.


_A/N: This was written on the spur of the moment as a way of saying thank you to Tara aka Lovinjackson for the kickass present she bought me for my birthday. I just hope this reflects how much her thoughtful gift and her friendship means to me. So yeah, this one's for you, Tara, cause you rock and you are definitely a sister to me. Now and always._

**XXXXXXXXX**

The Flask wasn't fancy, not like the more ornate engraved ones that Bobby Singer had taken to using over the years for whiskey and holy water. But within the Winchester family, it was a treasured heirloom, passed down from father to son, from brother to brother.

It's first drink was whiskey, the first ever liquid to caress it's silver belly. It had served John Winchester faithfully for years, depending on the nature of his need for the small item. Sometimes it was for whiskey to soothe a shattered body and mind after a long, hard hunt. Other times? It was a crucial weapon on the hunt itself, keeping the unholy at bay with a splash of it's blessed contents.

When John had died, the flask had lain the trunk of the Impala for months, too harsh a reminder of the life that been lost.

Until just before Dean's birthday. Sam had found the flask while retrieving his favourite grey hoodie. It was a little battered, a little neglected now. Just lying there, waiting for new life again.

So Sam took the flask and lovingly polished it, recalling his father, recalling the good times and finally admitting to himself that they had outweighed the bad. Sure, his life was far from perfect, even further from normal. But his father had loved him, his brother loved him too and would do anything for him.

One week before Dean's birthday, Sam had the flask engraved with Dean's initials, nervously handing over the gift and watching his brother's face for the reaction. Would he hate it? Would he be pissed at the engraving? At the memories it brought up again?

Dean had nodded, his face reflecting a quiet happiness at seeing the flask again as he tucked it into the inside pocket of his father's brown jacket. Feeling the way it seemed to be home again, as though the missing piece of a puzzle was finally in place. "That's awesome, Sammy….thanks, dude."

" You're welcome." Sam had nodded in return, smiling.

**XXXXXXXX**

Now the flask was nestled in Sam's jacket pocket as the Hellfire licked at his face, licked at his heels. The flames couldn't touch him though. Nothing could touch Sam anymore. He had finally come into being, had learnt to control his powers as Ruby had said. But she wasn't entirely correct when she had said there was a bomb inside of Sam.

He was a weapon.

Sam had walked into Hell alone and the hordes parted before him like some demonic Red Sea, screaming and gnashing their teeth at his presence. One look from Sam was all it took for a demon to explode into blue flame and burn down to nothing but ash in seconds.

As Lillith had. She had been the first. Sam had made her suffer greatly for taking his brother from him, for making Sam scream and cry for Dean as his brother died in such agony.

But his quest wasn't over, because Sam had come to take Dean home. He found his brother where some slithering, grovelling demon had told him Dean would be. It had screamed and died a moment later, it's ashes joining the rest that had been foolish enough to have anything to do with Dean's time in Hell.

The flask had been slipped from Sam's pocket as he levitated before Dean. The Holy water searing through the chains that were sunk into Dean's flesh, tearing and ripping, causing so much pain and torment. Dean barely had time to realise what was happening, that the chains were gone and he was free, before Sam caught him gently in his arms. " Easy, easy, Dean. I got you, man….I got you."

Dean had laid his head against Sam's shoulder, noting the flask now resting in his lap, the familiar initials still engraved into it's face. "S…S..Sa…ammy? Is…is th-that?"

" Yeah, dude. I figured you might want it back."

It was only a flask. But it had become so much more than that over the years. A reminder of a father who was loved and lost. A gift from one brother to another. A reminder of someone who could never be lost as it had sat close to Sam's heart during the long months of exploring his abilities until he was ready to bring Dean home again.

**XXXXXXX**

When that same, simple flask was finally slid inside Dean's leather jacket again, months after they had returned from Hell, Sam had seen the look in Dean's eyes. The slight curve of the corner of his mouth into the beginning of a smirk before the music was cranked to ear bleeding levels and the Impala had peeled out of Bobby's yard.

The flask was home again and so was Dean…everything as it should be, once more.


End file.
